The Happy Genius
by Ariadne Bassarid
Summary: Arrogant. Pushy. Genius. Three words describing both Seto Kaiba and Rebecca Hawkins. Who says you have to be opposites to attract? SetoxRebecca, prodigyshipping, complete
1. Chapter 1

**The Happy Genius**

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_Inspired by episode 168 because I__'m a little depraved. Sorry about that. And I'm using American ages because I _really_ am. Anyway, I've pretty much quit fanfiction (real life and all), but here's the deal… I have five out of six chapters for this written. I can post this one as a one-shot, or I can post all five and hope that by the time y'all want to read the sixth I've actually finished writing it. Your call. Enjoy, either way._

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Chapter One

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When she sat down I'd been minding my own business, which for me usually has a twofold meaning. This time I was in a coffeehouse with a pair of sunglasses on and the collar of my grey coat turned up – I've heard people compare me to James Bond, but he gets better disguises. On the other hand, my gadgets are far superior to his so overall I feel I'm the winner.

I did not just acknowledge I felt the need to compete with a fictional character.

Oh, Christ. It was all the coffee.

No one had bothered me until then, despite the fact that my corner of the café also happened to be a window seat, on a fairly busy street downtown. Sure, I was attempting to keep a low profile, but being famous a famous CEO (or should that be an infamous bastard?) wasn't as bad as everyone seemed to think it was. Most of the time, nobody really expected you - _Seto Kaiba_ - to actually be sitting in an actual coffeehouse, drinking actual coffee like an actual person. Surely not.

In the past I'd had my share of, "Wow, you kind of look like that Duel Monsters guy" comments, usually countered with a smile and the words, "You know, I get that all the time!" I'd prefer to glare at them and point out exactly how low their intelligence quotient must be/ how they were surely a wonderful contribution to society/ how their mother repeatedly dropped them on their head as a child making them both ugly and stupid… But that would be a typical Seto Kaiba response, and as such, would draw a lot more attention. As I've learned from experience.

Most of the time I just content myself with abusing them inside my head.

As for the media, they had actually realised my life as an actual person was incredibly unsensational. Well, it had been for a few years now, in particular since I dropped off the majority of the duelling circuit. I was still forced to give press releases on a weekly basis, but they were fairly standard. And I generally don't get out unless it's business… Which brings us back to the coffeehouse.

It was time to find a new supplier for headquarters. The one we had been using experienced a sudden corporate takeover and had changed its entire production line, meaning the coffee percolator in my office was suddenly producing a kind of mud I could barely swallow. (Not that I swallow any kind of mud, really.) So this was the other side of buying out a business! Great.

And as anyone who tries to run a business knows, coffee is an essential part of it. I wasn't going to stiff the employees and keep the good beans all for myself –how could I really expect them to stick around pulling all-nighters? I needed them wired like hard-drives most of the time. Nor was I about to leave the test-tasting to my latest assistant or even, for example my dear brother, both of whom drink Coca Cola in the morning instead.

Freaks.

Which brings me back to the girl who sat down opposite me. I was testing my tenth type of espresso when she slid into the empty chair and pulled off a pink woollen beanie, exposing long, sleek blonde hair. Next, off came a pair of pink, fingerless gloves, and then she ran one nicely-manicured hand through said hair.

I frowned and signalled the man behind the counter to bring espresso eleven - the so-called Mayan blend - over to me. Unfortunately, he misinterpreted the gesture and brought two. I scowled at him.

"Just one."

The man hastily removed the second cup.

She pouted. "You're not buying me a drink?" She made sure her voice was loud enough to carry to the barista's retreating back. The voice itself made me deduct several years from her appearance. It had all the authority but none of the actual maturity of a girl just a little older. This one was about fifteen. In short: what the hell?

"Was there something you wanted?" I asked, trying to make my voice harsh as I shuffled through my memory.

"Well, I would have taken that coffee..."

It was only then that I placed her; I picked up on the barely-perceptible accent when she spoke for the second time. There was only one blonde, American female who would ever consider she had a right to just sit down at my table, and yes, she would be about fifteen by now, wouldn't she?

"Rebecca Hawkins."

"You remembered! I'm touched!" She winked at me, then pulled a small blue packet of sugar out of the glass holder in the centre of the table, and started slowly tearing the edges of it. She wasn't bothered by my stare.

Of course, maybe she didn't know I was staring at all. I was wearing sunglasses. I removed them, and sat back to give her another assessment. She was wearing a thin, pink woollen turtleneck, under a black jacket with a sophisticated, sharp cut; a grey, pleated skirt which stopped mid-thigh – her legs were sticking out away from the table, while she sat sideways on her chair – and black, suede knee-high boots.

"I repeat: is there something you want… Kid?" The word was added to the sentence slowly and deliberately.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you DO remember."

It wasn't a hard thing to recall, even if I hadn't seen her in a couple of years. Most child prodigies hate being referred to as the youngins' they are. I had. Mokuba had. Rebecca definitely had.

I signalled the waiter again. Espresso number twelve arrived – 'Black Columbian.' Rebecca piped up as the man tried to collect the scattering of empty cups sitting between us. "Hey, a double mochaccino, okay?"

He glanced at me worriedly. Oh, to hell with it. I sighed and nodded. "You don't have somewhere more important to be?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm working, not that it's any of your business."

"Did you take up caffeine addiction as a profession?"

I ignored her. Little smartass. Of course, she always had been. Insufferable as a child. And the worst part was, she deserved to be. I downed the Columbian blend like a shot of liquor and tried to figure out exactly how the taste was different from the previous one.

"What do you do, anyway?" I asked, abruptly.

She grinned. "What _don't_ I do?"

"…Go away now."

"Aww, come on, Seto. Don't be rude. I was just kidding." She leaned back in her chair, bring her legs forward slightly and mimicking my posture somewhat unconsciously. She crossed her ankles. Her boots were close to my own, now.

"Being childish, you mean?"

She pouted her lips again. They were a pale pink like so much of her clothing, though it seemed this was natural. They had only a clear shimmer across them; lip gloss.

"I really am working. I'm considering this company as a supplier for my main building and I'm doing the taste-testing personally."

She stared at me – amused, I think. Shifted her big, light blue eyes back to the countertop. Put down her now-mutilated sugar packet. "Oh, you know… I got my degree in computer science and archaeology, recently did my masterate thesis in the latter and am almost done with my doctorate for the first. Founded a charity for toys and communications technology for underprivileged children… Duel Monsters International Champion for three years running… I'm technically in charge of Grandpa's investments and companies these days, though I guess other people look after it most of the time… And I dated a rockstar for a couple of months recently but dumped him because he wanted sex all the time. That sort of thing. How about you?"

Those eyes were pretty and innocent. Oh, so she wanted to play it that way, did she? To hell with it, I wasn't in the mood for games with a brat .

"I've been doing alright."

She threw her head back and laughed. It was unexpectedly loud in the coffeehouse, which had only a handful of other patrons at two-thirty on a business day. 'I've been doing alright.' Okay, Kaiba... You haven't been on the news recently?"

"Nope."

"When was the last time I saw you? That tournament in Paris two years ago?"

"Probably." I vaguely recalled a few snide comments being exchanged.

She re-crossed her ankles. I couldn't help but follow the slim lines of her legs. And she knew it. Fifteen, for the love of god in heaven.

"You know, Seto, you could try relaxing just a little bit. Have a nice, friendly chat. Maybe stop acting like you're the only one with a brain around here. It may come as a shock to you, but there are at least the two of us."

Oh yeah. Me and Rebecca Hawkins. We had something in common. That was just… Wonderful! But was it really such a bad offer? She was right. I spent enough time disdaining the rest of the human race, and here was a person with whom I could actually, possibly, have a satisfying conversation. If anything, I was reluctant to talk to someone who was very likely going to end up with the upper hand. I don't ordinarily venture into something if I'm not confident of emerging as the victor.

Okay, I did not just acknowledge I felt the need to compete with a teenage girl. Look at her.

"More coffee," I called. "No, no…" I corrected, as the man grabbed another ridiculously small espresso cup. "I think I've tried enough variety. Give me a flat white in the… Vienna."

"You're a little twitchy, huh?"

I didn't reply, and we sat in silence as the little man hurried to make my order. He brought over her frothy bowl of chocolate and coffee at the same time as my cup. Finally, a decent amount of caffeine in one sitting. Rebecca concentrated on emptying three sugars into her own drink and stirring them cautiously through the foam.

"It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it."

"…Huh? Oh," she giggled a little uneasily - a little startled that I'd spoken at all, let alone made… A quip. Me, quipping. It was a red letter day. "Right..."

"Okay." I sighed again. Here we go, I guess. "I studied physics and music, expanded KaibaCorp to communications, an airline, and entertainment and movies (Mokuba's division) to make it one of the largest corporations on a global scale, invested in medicine, funded housing programmes and orphanages in a few countries… That sort of thing." It was a modest description, really. I honestly could have tripled the list.

"No girlfriends?"

"Do I look like a recluse?"

"Frankly, yes!" Rebecca took a moment to mmm over her drink, warming her hands on the bowl and inhaling the rich scent. "Look at you, you're sitting alone in a café, dressed in black and grey with shadows under your eyes, and on your thirtieth cup of coffee."

"Thirteenth, actually," I admitted with a small smile. Mokuba would be proud of me. I had yet to strain a muscle doing it, though he warned me that if I kept leaving them for such long intervals it was bound to happen one day.

"Uh-huh. How many did you have before you got here?"

I paused. "Maybe… six?" Hey, it was mid afternoon. It had been a long day, and was getting increasingly longer.

"I guess you've had plenty of girlfriends; you're still as sexy as ever."

I managed not to choke on my flat white. Instead I raised one eyebrow at her. "I'm a regular Adonis, yes." I even managed to sound bored.

"You could make the tabloids any time you wanted, anyway."

"You have a funny way of looking at the world, brat. I've worked hard for a long time to keep out of them."

She looked at her hands. "You never just want to do something… Crazy?"

"Life is crazy," I returned.

"I was just on my way to my favourite bookstore."

"How nice for you." I can't sound friendly even if I want to. Too late to amend my cold ways, maybe. Sure, there had been times, and people, who had made me feel and act differently… But I'd mostly given up on those. They never worked out. The company, the public… It was too much. Easier just to drink my coffee alone.

"Let's go do something, Seto."

"Have all those coffee crystals eroded your brain?" Alright, maybe I just wasn't trying very hard.

"Would it be so bad? You can pick a coffee later."

"What would you like to do instead, go play with your dolls?"

"Unless you're bringing your own personal blow-up along, there aren't any available." She was grinning.

"Thanks for the offer, but I've had enough of Yuugi Mutou's leftovers in life."

She stood up so fast her chair scraped and almost toppled backwards. "If you were anyone else, I'd slap you right now." Her face had coloured.

"You're the one who asked to play with the big boys." True, I'd started it, but for a moment she'd seemed willing to give as good as she got. Blow up dolls… Maybe it had been a while, but sex wasn't exactly high on my list of priorities. Okay, maybe she wounded my pride. What could she possibly know about any of it? I had a decade on her.

Rebecca leaned forward, her hands on the table, and brought her face close to mine. Her breath was hot and sweet, like the mochaccino. "Are you a big boy, Kaiba?"

Jesus Christ.

"Or are you the one who needs to grow up, here?"

I looked her in the eyes. "Alright… Perhaps that was over the line."

"It was." She sat down again, but her expression was guarded now.

"Did you ever…?"

"Did I ever what?" Flat tone.

I gazed at her steadily. She was bright enough to know what I was asking, even if it wasn't the most explicit inquiry.

"He kissed me, once…" She looked away, out the window. "The day before he got married."

"The little wife can't have been too pleased about that."

Without looking back, Rebecca wrapped her hands back around her mochaccino bowl. "I think Anzu knew about it, really." Her voice was soft now.

I looked down at my own coffee. Whatever went on in Yuugi's marriage was none of my business. I was struck by the sudden thought, however, that it must be hard to watch the person you love grow up, get married and get someone pregnant before you could even start highschool. (Mazaki was as big as a house, too – it was hard to believe she wasn't due for another two months. Was it two months? Shit, I didn't know. Oh well… Mokuba would probably know when to send a card.) I couldn't really deride Rebecca's devotion to the midget as 'only' puppy love – hell, I don't know if I'd ever cared for a member of the opposite sex that much. I'd considered marrying one of my girlfriends once, but even now - years later - Rebecca looked more sad for Yuugi than I had when she'd left me.

Not that I usually let my emotions onto my face, anyway. Okay, I'd become a bit better at it since my own teenage years, but I wasn't about to let another person depress me like that. It wasn't worth it.

I didn't know what to say to her, so I didn't say anything. Why bother her with clumsy, ignorant condolences? She was obviously doing fine. She finished off her mochaccino. I sipped my coffee.

"So do you wanna go somewhere?" she asked, brightly.

I looked at her suspiciously. She pulled out the lipgloss – clear, as I'd already guessed – and reapplied it with no hint of self-consciousness, but very obvious deliberation.

"Am I going to get arrested for it?" I asked, lightly.

"Where'd you get an idea like that, Kaiba? I don't look like a punk, do I?"

"I'm sure you're one on the inside." Disdainful tones are my friend.

She batted her eyelashes.

"You look like trouble."

She raised her eyebrows, pleadingly.

Well, why the hell not? Someone else was taking care of business. These days I let my most trusted employees handle a lot of the actual running of KaibaCorp. It had officially become too big and unwieldy for me to personally oversee every project. I'd cleared my afternoon now, and only other option I had was to continue drinking coffee by myself. A fine way to spend one's time: alone and jazzed up on coffee beans.

I stood and put my sunglasses on. "All right."

A smile illuminated her face, and I was sorry to say, it was devastatingly… Cute. Not a word I have ever used. God knows what the barista thought. I walked over to the counter, tossed a few bills in his direction, and muttered a thank you. Held the door for her.

She'd apparently been pulling on her gloves and hat, and now bounded towards me. "How gallant of you."

She looked comfortable in my car. She had no suggestions for where she wanted to go. She didn't seem particularly inclined towards any activity. I was forced to inhale and exhale several times, and remind myself that she was, in fact, a genius. Apparently. Just when I was starting to feel like a babysitter, I suggested the mansion. It wasn't like we had nothing to do there - an arcade, library, theatre, indoor pool, gym.

We made it into my garage without me killing her. I switched off the engine.

"Kaiba. ….Seto?" She said, softly.

I knew that tone. I kept my hands on the staring wheel and turned my head to look at her. "What?"

She shifted her legs, flashing a stretch of her inner thigh. "You like the way I look, right?"

"What game are we playing here, Rebecca? Because I don't appreciate not knowing the rules."

"I'm not playing." She toyed with a few strands of her hair, twirling it in her slender fingers. She bit her lip.

I took my right hand off the wheel and angled slightly towards her. "Is that so?"

Rebecca took a deep breath. "Well, do you?"

I considered. Of course, but that had never been good enough motivation for me, had it? She was a brat, and I knew plenty of those. I'd been one. Still kind of was. I'd agreed to leave with her, hadn't I? "I think I just might like you, yes."

I don't know how it happened but suddenly we were kissing. I was kicking myself mentally, but god, she tasted good. The lipgloss was cherry-flavoured. She snaked a hand around my waist and I let go of the wheel completely, using my hands to pull her closer across the seat. I could almost hear police sirens in my head – she pulled back, abruptly. Had I kissed her? Had she kissed me? Had I misjudged the situation? I hadn't felt so uncertain of anything in years.

"The handbrake is in the way, and I can't get on top of you because of the steering wheel."

We stood in the elevator, both staring forwards as floors disappeared below us, willing the damn thing to hurry up and the doors to open.

"Kiss me again," she said in a rush.

I grabbed her and lifted her, pushing her against the back wall, resting her slightly on the waist-high brass bar that ran around it. Her legs went around my hips. She pushed my coat back.

The doors opened onto my floor with a soft buzz, then closed again – it took longer than they allowed to disentangle ourselves.

"My room." My voice was hoarse. I took her hand like I was nothing but a teenager too, and pulled her along. The instant I shut the mahogany double doors she threw her arms around my neck, and this time I pushed her up onto a vanity, kissing her neck. It wasn't until I slid a hand inside her top that she stiffened.

What the fuck was I doing? This time, I pulled away – turned away, and said without looking at her, "Go away now."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was very quiet.

"Didn't you say you broke up with your boyfriend because of this?" She was silent behind me, and I studied my empty canopy bed. I could have left the room, but Christ, I wasn't a monster. I wasn't going to just walk out and leave her here to have some kind of emotional crisis. "You haven't done this before, have you?"

"He wasn't the right one. They never are."

I laughed, and found myself half-looking over my shoulder. "And what am I?"

"You…" She hadn't moved at all. Her legs were still parted enough to let me stand between them, her skirt pushed up slightly. Its appeal was dampened by her eyes, and the wet shine in them. "You know what it's like."

"What _what_ is like, exactly?" I reclaimed the space between us. She stared down at my chest, not nearly so cocky now.

"To always… Always be thinking."

I kissed her cheek. Trying to be reassuring. "You can leave."

"No!" she breathed, vehemently. "I don't want… To think so much."

I'd probably switched my own brain off for the day. At least one of us ought to be thinking, right? Apparently not.

Rebecca's voice became even more quiet. "I don't want to be so lonely."

I felt an almost-physical twinge inside. Whaddya know, I still have emotions deep down somewhere. "There are boys your own age."

"Boys!" she shoved at me, then grabbed my black shirt and bunched her hands in it. "They don't know what they're doing."

If she thought I did, I had news for her. Right that moment I had no idea what the fuck.

"Stop me from thinking about it." She turned her face up to mine, and I took it like I might eat her from the mouth down.. I carried her from the dresser and laid her backwards on my bed. Kicked off my boots. Pulled my shirt over my head. Laid down on top… And she was too short, too close to the end of the bed. My feet were hanging over. I pushed her up along the black bedcovers and she put her hands against my now-bare chest.

"My boots - " she practically stammered.

Were they muddy underneath? Didn't care. "Leave them on."

The expression on her face was uncertain, but it was anything but childish. She knew what she was doing – what she wanted. I kissed her again.

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I'd fallen asleep. I couldn't believe it. Of course, I'd been exhausting myself with some of my best work – but after all that caffeine? She was gone. I'd been seduced by a fifteen year old and she'd left while I was sleeping. There was one word to adequately sum up the situation:

Fuck.

What time was it? It was dark. I fumbled around for the beside clock - it had been knocked off the stand, I vaguely recalled - and found it on the floor.

Only six pm. I must've been asleep… What, an hour? I put the clock back beside me, brushing a piece of paper as I did so. Oh great. A note. What could she possibly have to say, now? Dear John? If I was getting a dear john from a teenager, I should officially probably kill myself. Unfortunately, I wasn't that angsty. I switched on the lamp to read it.

_Dear Seto,_

_Thank you__. I know it wasn't what I said I wanted from you, but… If you should decide that you want to see me again, give me a call. It's up to you. I won't bother you, otherwise._

Her number. I wondered where my cellphone was. Ah - Two coats. They should be lying on the elevator floor, though probably Rebecca had taken hers. I hoped no one else had used the elevator since then, but it was unlikely. And the security camera would have – no, not thinking about it. That's what huge salary bonuses are for. I grabbed a sheet and pulled it around my waist so I could walk into the hall. Wouldn't do to startle a maid, after all. I pushed the button and with the hissing of the opening doors, there it was. I grabbed it, went back to my room, pulled my cellphone out of its pocket. I left the coat on the floor.

Trying not to think too hard myself, I lay back on the bed – sheet still around my waist - and dialled the number in front of me. I knew I'd show up as 'number unavailable' on her screen. I stared at the ceiling. _Bother me_. That, she did.

"Yeah?" Nice phone manner.

"Hey, Brat." She was quiet. "You know that when you're a young and attractive fifty year old, I'll be a decrepit sixty years of age."

Still silence. And then, "Don't be ridiculous, Kaiba. You have classic good looks and a lot of money; you'll always be sexy."

"What if I get a hip replacement?"

"Then you'll finally be part machine like the world always suspected."

"A cane."

"You can work out a sexy dance routine and go on tour."

I guess she was okay, then. Her wit wasn't suffering, anyway. Not that I'd been too concerned – she was the one who'd left me to wake up alone. And not that I shouldn't have woken up alone… Except it had bothered me. Crazy. Maybe I'd finally crossed the line from eccentric billionaire to crazy asshole. Maybe I still had more caffeine than blood in me. Maybe, maybe. What pretty excuses.

"How did you get home?"

"I persuaded your driver to take me." Had she, just. I was not dealing with an ordinary girl here. Of course, I shouldn't have been dealing with her all. I shouldn't have called. She'd had what she wanted out of me, and I hadn't done too badly in the bargain. But there had been something in her those sky-blue eyes of hers. _I don't want to be so lonely._

"Rebecca…"

"Yes?" She'd answered almost too quickly.

"I have another coffee retailer to check out tomorrow."

"Oh. Maybe you shouldn't drink all that by yourself; so much caffeine can't be good for a person."

"I was considering that, myself." Dry tone, as always.

"So what do you suggest?"

"Two thirty."

She hesitated. "Can't really do two thirty. Later?"

"Four, then."

"Pick me up."

She seemed to think she could boss everyone around. I had news for her if she thought she could do it to me. But since I'd called her, I suppose in this one case it was acceptable. "Okay."

She gave me an address. I said okay again. I hung up. I had the funny feeling my life was about to be re-examined by the tabloids. Maybe that would be okay, too. I could stand to be bothered for a little while.

As long as her grandfather didn't try to have me arrested, of course.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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_Author's Note__: Yeah, I posted the first chapter of this story about a year ago and pretty much never intended to post the rest. Yet here it is, with more to follow. Don't worry; next update isn't a year away._

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The door to the café was hardly shut behind us before Rebecca spoke. Or, to be more accurate, before she shrieked.

"God damn! That was possibly the worst coffee I have ever tasted!" She gave a small stomp for emphasis. I watched her with a smirk of amusement on my face. They could probably hear her inside, but they deserved that.

"Yes."

"It was like the anti-coffee."

"Oh really?" I started walking and assumed she'd follow. She did, kicking her feet behind me. Unlike yesterday's boots, she was in a pair of pink sneakers. If I panned my gaze upward from them – as I'd done already several times, to my ultimate disgrace or delight – I could follow the slim lines of her legs underneath a pair of taut black stockings. From there it was up to another miniskirt, this time unpleated and sky blue. Even with the kiddy clothing, she still looked at least two years older than her actual age of fifteen.

Warning, warning. Danger, Seto Kaiba.

I glanced back at her and she skipped across the distance between us to walk at my side. Though we were in a urban centre, the footpath wasn't too crowded.

"Well, regular coffee picks you up. This one brings you down."

"Mmhmm."

"Like, six feet down."

I snorted.

"I'm contemplating suicide because of that coffee, Seto."

"I think you'll survive."

"Hell brews that beverage. If I collapse, you'd better do CPR."

"Not with the taste of that sludge still in your mouth."

"Ah!" She stopped walking, and plucked at the sleeve of my coat – yes, the same grey one I'd worn yesterday – grey was inconspicuous – forcing me to stop, too. We were suddenly in front of a soda machine. "Easily remedied."

She reached into a pocket of her black jacket – same one she'd worn yesterday, too – nice to see that she wasn't out to impress me with a totally new outfit – and fished out a coin, then pushed it through the slot.

I waited silently.

The machine rumbled. A can dropped down. She popped it open and took a sip. "Much better! Want some?"

I started walking again. "What flavour is it?" I sounded awfully interested in soda, when one considered that I don't generally sound interested in anything other people have to offer. The coffee really had been that bad.

"Sour lemon."

Revised opinion: maybe not THAT bad. "No thanks."

"You don't like sour lemon?"

"Never tried it."

"Then how do you know?"

I rolled my eyes at her.

The bright yellow can was suddenly in my face. "Sometimes it can be fun to try new things, Kaiba." Her tone of voice was awfully suggestive – babyish but breathy.

To avoid an argument I took the drink and, with an apprehensive squint into it, sipped. The rim was slightly sticky with that damn lipgloss of hers, but that flavour was quickly washed away by a flood of acrid fake lemon. So were my tastebuds.

I coughed slightly and pushed the can back at her. "Happy now? I don't like it."

"Where are we walking to, anyway?"

"It's early," I responded. And it was. Our coffee had been a disaster. Maybe it was the nerves of the girl behind the counter, which didn't quite seem up to serving a billionaire, and she'd burned the milk. Or maybe the coffee was just plain disgusting. Either way, though we'd met at four it was now only four thirty.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're less than informative?"

"Frequently."

She sighed. "Come on, give me something to work with, here."

I glanced down at her. She was extremely short beside me. "I need to make up for the coffee of death."

"It tasted like death," she reiterated.

"It did."

"So… Where we goin'?" Was she deliberately trying to throw me off with the childish act? Twenty minutes ago we'd been discussing the economy.

"For a long walk in the freezing winter air," I responded with a measure of sarcasm.

"Very funny."

"There's a restaurant along here that I like."

"Oh, that's nice." Great, now being deliberately obtuse. Or maybe just not willing to let me get away with anything.

I stopped walking and turned to her. "Rebecca."

She looked up at me. Those maddening eyes of hers were even more startling today, accentuated by the jade-coloured top she was wearing. "Mmhmm?"

"Would you care to go to dinner with me?" There. Even the Beast could be polite.

Her face broke into a smile. God help me, it was like the only sunshine on a grey winter street. "I'd like that."

"Good, because we're here." I gestured at the nondescript, dim doorway on my right. It was unmarked and as far as anyone could see from the footpath, it fed into a dark, dingy staircase.

Unexpectedly, she took my arm. Didn't squeeze it tightly. Just slipped her own arm through mine. Restraining myself from making any kind of comment, I steered her inwards. The staircase was cramped, and the only sound was our breathing, slightly laboured by the time we reached halfway – the hall was stuffy, and were in winter clothes.

At the top Rebecca pulled away from me and ran a hand through her hair. No questions about where the hell we were going; she was too smart for that. I opened the door for her again. (That's right. Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to be polite.) She swanned into the next room.

It was the reception area of a very fashionable and spacious restaurant. It came complete with a fountain near the desk, a lot of tastefully-located potted plants, and a black, white and green colour scheme. It was not, however, the kind of place that set each table with four different forks and other equally ridiculous adornments. Attractive but guileless, how I liked most things in my life.

I wasn't sure my – date – for the evening fit that requirement, but she had some other pleasing qualities nonetheless. Short skirt, short skirt.

A woman in a simple black dress appeared behind the desk. How nice; she matched the décor, as usual. "Welcome again to Yoshi, Mr Kaiba."

"Table for two." I responded with my least fierce look. Some might say it has the ghost of a smile. Well, okay, that's probably an exaggeration.

She seated us in the back. I wondered if that meant I was the most reputable person in there at the time, or if she wanted to hide both myself and my companion of questionable age. Paranoid - me? Always. The woman glanced at Rebecca when she offered us drinks. Yep. The age thing. Fortunately for her, we both asked for tea.

Hell, it wasn't even five o clock yet. Too early for alcohol. Including the fact that we were apparently both scarred by the coffee earlier, tea seemed an acceptable beverage. With a glance at Rebecca to confirm it, I informed our hostess that we didn't need menus yet. Too early.

Meanwhile, Rebecca had looked around with a thoughtful expression, though not with an over-eager amount of curiosity. "It's nice," she said, eventually. A somewhat non-commital response.

I cleared my throat. For some stupid reason offered an explanation. "It's quiet here." Yes. It was a regular thesis on the matter. Hell, I hadn't brought her to an unmarked, exclusive restaurant to show off; I never felt that need with anyone. I really did like the guarantee of peace.

She nodded. "It's nice to cocoon yourself sometimes."

Cocoon myself. Apt. "Exactly."

Our tea arrived suspiciously fast. Of course, it was early – it was quiet. Rebecca and I sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Sipping. It wasn't an awkward pause; I think we'd already managed to knock over enough walls the previous day. Sitting opposite each other was nothing.

"About yesterday –" Rebecca started.

Oh no. A conversation. I braced myself.

"I hope you didn't feel… I mean, you didn't have to call."

"I know." My response was steady.

"You don't have to feel obligated to me for any reason!"

I watched her face for a moment. A hint of a blush seemed to be creeping onto her cheeks. I took my time considering my next words, but she didn't break my gaze. The brat was winning points with me, I had to admit it.

"If you're worried that I only called to check up on you, that's not it."

She nodded, and seemed about to speak again. I over-rode her. "If you're worried that I'm here to assuage my own guilt, that's not it either." Disturbingly, I didn't feel much guilt in the matter, despite the obvious age difference. This wasn't a normal girl in front of me. Granted, nor was she a woman; she was a strangely pleasing combination of both. "Yesterday you were determined that I treat you as something other than a child, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll admit – " I paused. Was I about to express an actual feeling? Oh well, it had to happen some time. "I was concerned when you left, but not because I thought you were incapable of looking after yourself. It was concern I'd feel for anyone I had some measure of regard for. I don't do casual sex."

A look of relief crept onto Rebecca's face. I could understand that, I think. While she didn't want me to think of her as a baby, no female really wants to feel like she had no affect on a man. No one wants to be a notch in a bedpost – not even some men, such as myself. I'm well aware there are plenty of women who would sleep with me simply by the virtue of the company logo. Thanks, but no thanks. No Bond girls for me.

"As I'm sure you're aware, I don't suffer fools lightly. Rest assured that I called you because – I wanted to see you again," I heard myself admitting. "Because I'm intrigued by you.. . As a person."

My cellphone rang. There was a god after all, and he had rescued me from having to hear a response to that confession. I pulled it out of my pocket. The glowing face told me that it was my secretary, Suzume.

"Sorry," I mouthed at Rebecca as I flipped it open. She looked grudgingly understanding. "Kaiba," I barked at my assistant as a greeting.

"Mr Kaiba, I'm sorry to bother you, but I had a call from a Mr Boku and he's very unhappy with his recent order – "

"Mmhmm…. Mmhmm." I listened as Suzume explained the situation. Across the table, Rebecca signalled a waitress and asked for a bottle of water.

"Sorry," I mouthed again quietly, and stood to complete my call a few paces off.

It didn't take long, but my dinner date looked decidedly unimpressed when I rejoined her. I didn't really blame her. If I'd had to sit at the table alone, waiting for my companion's phone call to end, I'd be mad. But I ran a company, here. I had little choice about when my private phone rang. I didn't need more than two hands to count the number of people who had the number, so it was usually important.

"It was my secretary. There was a problem with a large order of dueldisks to Korea. Apparently one of the security chips in more than one of the disks is faulty and Boku is having rather a difficult time with some… Unusually aggressive holograms." I'd expanded KaibaCorp, but the DuelMonsters division was still my own personal pet.

A smile appeared on her lips. "I see."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Which of course means recalling the entire batch and replacing them free of cost…"

"Is someone going to get fired?" Her tone of voice was far too innocent. Teasing me, I supposed.

I rolled my eyes in return. "I doubt it. It's a rather big malfunction, but things like this happen all the time. Usually not on such a large scale…"

"But Seto Kaiba fires all who fail him! Everyone knows that."

"Cute, Kid."

She pursed her lips. "Do you have to call me that?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were treating me like an adult."

"I said 'a person', actually. And I am."

"I'd prefer 'sweetheart.'"

"No, you wouldn't."

"Okay, I wouldn't." She admitted. Point for me. She toyed with a silver chain around her neck. I tried not to stare. Everything about the way she moved seemed to be affecting me. Probably something to with the fact that – oh yeah – I slept with her yesterday. I attempted to suppress the thought. Not good restaurant thoughts.

I had more self-control than this. I glanced at the windows on the far side of the restaurant; it was getting dark outside.

"Menu time?"

"Sure, why not?"

I signalled the staff again. And then there was another ringing. Rebecca pulled a small silver phone out of the jacket, which she'd earlier put across the back of her chair. She grimaced and answered it.

"Yeah? Oh, hi Grandpa… No… What? Really?"

Two menus were handed to me. I took them with a nod, more intent on following Rebecca's facial expressions than thanking the waitress.

A sigh. "Okay. No, I'll come. No, it's no problem, I wasn't doing anything important."

I raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged in apology.

"I'm… Hang on," she held her phone away from her mouth. "Where am I?" she asked me in a hushed, urgent voice. I gave her the address. She repeated it into the phone. "Okay. Okay, in forty minutes." She hung up and looked back at me, a little distracted. "What was I supposed to say?"

I shrugged. Good question. 'Hi Grandpa, I'm out with a man about a decade older than me'? 'Hi Grandpa, I'm out with infamous bastard, Seto Kaiba'? Might as well say 'Hi Grandpa, I'm out at a Satanic orgy ingesting drugs and alcohol and having sex indiscriminately.'

Okay. Maybe I wasn't THAT bad. But close.

"I have to go."

Good thing I hadn't actually handed her the menu, yet.

"Some of my cousins just showed up at the house." Her tone indicated exactly what she thought about that.

"A problem?"

"For dinner."

"Ah."

"They only ever… Oh, nevermind."

I stared. "…Well?"

"They're nice enough, but they're so… Normal. And they only ever pop up when there's something they want."

I nodded.

"I'm kind of the freak of the family, I guess… Ah, my youngest cousin is okay. She's only twelve. Anyway, I have to go eat with them…" She looked wistfully at the table in front of us.

"Forty minutes before they get here?"

"Yep."

"And forty minutes before you get home again."

"That's good, Kaiba; you now have the mathematical ability of a six year old."

"Don't get pissy with me because of _your_ relatives, Kid." I retorted. I wasn't phased. "Have something before you leave." I struggled to make it sound like a suggestion, not an order. "…It sounds like you won't be eating for a few hours, at least."

She considered, with a small frown. "Okay."

The forty minutes went surprisingly fast, as did the entrees we ordered. Particularly because she leaned over and took half of mine from my plate. And I didn't particularly mind; I normally eat later anyway. My schedule is too busy. It was more entertaining to watch her lean across the table, and then sit back and put a small bite into her mouth.

Hey, we were on a date - sort of. I was allowed to stare down her top. Watch her lick her lips. Screw it. Treating her like a person, not a typical teenage brat, right? Right. Keep telling yourself that, Seto.

When her phone rang again to signal that the car was waiting for her downstairs, I walked her out. Walking her out involved getting down those stairs, however. As the restaurant door shut at the top of them and we were left in the relatively dark stairwell, she murmured, "I'm sorry about tonight."

"Are you?"

"Yes – the interruptions." First the coffee, then a failed dinner. The evening hadn't exactly gone to plan.

"These things happen." I started to walk down the stairs, but in a moment she reached out and grabbed me – my shoulder, as I'd moved a few steps down from her.

"I am going to see you again, aren't I?" The demanding tone was tinged with just the slightest edge of uncertainty.

I turned around. "If you want to."

She took advantage of her higher position on the staircase and slipped her hands around the base of my neck, inside my coat collar. I was already looking up at her. All she had to do was bend her mouth slightly to mine, and she did. It was a slow kiss – not like the ones we'd exchanged yesterday, though on some level no less charged. This one started out more gentle and seemed to rise in its ferocity as I took the mouth she offered me and teased her with my tongue.

I broke away suddenly, for a moment convinced I was about to lose my balance on the stairs. I was tempted to put a hand against the wall. I reached out and took her hand, instead, helping her down in front of me. "You'll see me again."

I stopped just inside the stairwell, out of sight of the road. She hesitated before the threshold, then took a step back towards me. I didn't wait to find out exactly why but this time leaned down, myself, capturing her face with my hands, sliding them into her hair, and tilting her mouth upwards to kiss her, quickly. Doom on me.

"'No way but this; Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.'"

She lifted an eyebrow at me in amusement, and then all of a sudden turned and ran out onto the street where they were waiting for her. I'd surprised myself. I wasn't exactly the type to act the a romantic fool. Although just plain fool… That might prove to be true. Which I suppose the quote had adequately encapsulated.

It left plenty of room for this to eventuate as either a comedy or a tragedy.

-

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_Quote from Othello, V.ii. You think he isn't well-read?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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It wasn't until Rebecca slept over for the first time that I found out she actually was in highschool. For a while, it didn't occur to me to question the way she always got up and left after… After. Then I started to wonder if it would really be that bad to stay in my bed with me.

I considered seeing a doctor about these unusual thoughts – and even more dangerous, the feelings – but decided it probably wasn't fatal.

Still, I said nothing about it to her; I didn't want to make her feel like she had to stick around. I could live with myself if she wanted to go. We didn't have the most normal relationship in the first place. Well, It was normal dating, really. One of us would call. A movie, a drive, dinner. It would usually end up back at the mansion. She'd leave. Then I'd go back to running my company for a day or two and she'd continue with her own activities. Before long someone would make a call again.

It was only abnormal in the way that it worked so well, given the circumstances. If I was busy, she understood. If she was busy, I had other things to do. We stayed out of public for the most part, though news rumours were slowly starting. As far as relationships went, it didn't take much work at all; we just happened.

Which is why I was particularly surprised when she invited me to dinner at her grandfather's. So surprised that for a moment I said nothing.

"I think it's best he learns about it before the tabloids really start pushing it in people's faces."

She was right. I should probably tell my brother sometime soon. I was fairly certain he knew I'd been seeing someone, but Mokuba didn't pry. He was too busy for that – if there was a Kaiba that had to be the Bond Girl type, then it was my little brother.

"When?"

"Thursday night?"

"I can do Thursday night."

"See you then, sexy."

"Goodnight, brat."

And then Thursday came too quickly. I drove myself to Arthur Hawkin's residence, which really wasn't too far from my home. The place was impressive but not over the top, as some people might view my own. Hawkins didn't have his own jet, for one. I didn't make a long assessment of the house and grounds, however; I wasn't coward enough to stall the meeting.

Dinner. Not a meeting. I shook my head and rang the doorbell. It certainly felt like business.

By the time a maid had taken my coat in the foyer, Rebecca came running down the main stairs two at a time, then flung herself at me. We exchanged several quick, hot kisses, before I extracted myself from her arms well enough to ascertain the elderly Hawkins wasn't aiming a shotgun at me, from behind her.

So far, so good. And in that eventuality, I could always blast him with one of my gadgets, right?

Too bad I didn't have any explosives on me. Oh well; exploding a seventy-seven year old would probably be bad for my reputation anyway. Especially when it came to light that I was sleeping with his fifteen year old granddaughter.

Rebecca rolled her eyes at me. "I have a little more class than that." The damn kid always knew what I was thinking. At least, she could usually make a fairly good hypothesis, which was probably why I got away with being my stubborn self around her.

"What a relief."

"Grandfather will be down in a moment." She lowered her voice. "He's a little tired today."

The elderly scientist-archaeologist had suffered a heart attack a year ago, prompting his relocation to Japan. Rebecca had already told me how her grandfather had decided to move to Domino to spend time with Mutou's grizzled old guardian, one of his last living friends. She'd approved of the plan… Despite the fact that "Yuugi-chan" had already gotten married to someone else.

Bully for me.

As Rebecca led me into the sitting room, I looked around. First time in the girlfriend's house. I was a little curious, despite the fact that I thought I'd weeded that emotion out of me years ago. And I was suspicious that there was a doll collection somewhere, just waiting to sneak up on me. All my gawking at everything else delayed me staring at Rebecca until we actually sat down, and then with a start I noticed she was wearing slim, tailored black pants and a matching suit jacket. A pale pink shirt was underneath. And she had glasses on. Severe, angular ones, with dark pink rims.

So sue me, I hadn't taken in her outfit while she was sucking my face in the hall. I'm a guy. The first thing we notice is NOT clothing.

But if I'd thought she'd looked older than fifteen when she'd first sat at my table in that café, now she appeared at least twenty. I'd never seen her in anything so adult. It was extremely… Interesting.

In the chair opposite me she crossed her ankles. She had heels on. Little strappy ones. Pink toenails. How the hell had she sprinted down the stairs in those?

She was watching me with a smirk.

I merely rolled my eyes. "You look nice."

"Oh! Thank you for deigning to give me a standard compliment, Mighty Seto Kaiba!"

"Watch it."

The amusement in her eyes softened. "You look nice too."

I was wearing black pants and a dark blue turtleneck. Nothing unusual. Sure, I'd given up my usual boots for a more discreet pair, that looked like regular – if somewhat pointed – shoes underneath the pants. Arthur Hawkins didn't seem the type to approve of corporate punk... Not that I'd ever really spoken to him at length. That, however, was the start and finish of my effort to 'look nice'.

Guess I'm just a sex machine, whatever I wear.

When Hawkins entered the room a few minutes later it was with a slow, dignified walk and the aid of a wooden cane. Rebecca and I both stood to meet him. He nodded at me in recognition. I extended a hand and he accepted it gracefully.

"Seto Kaiba. A pleasure to have you in our home."

"Arthur. It's been a while."

"Yes, it has. Shall we go in to dinner?"

The meal passed relatively peacefully. The food barely got my attention, other than to note that it tasted good. Arthur soon engaged me in conversation about some of KaibaCorp's more recent purchases and donations in the arts, and I questioned him on what he was doing now that he'd officially retired. With Rebecca contributing questions to me and answers from him, courses practically appeared and disappeared beneath my nose.

My level of concentration on the actual dinner wasn't helped by the way Rebecca was distracting me underneath the table. She'd slipped off her shoes somewhere after the entrée and had been harassing me for much of the meal. It was impossible to ignore her, but I found that thankfully I could direct most of my abilities towards the discussion. Anyone else and I might have snapped at her for behaving inappropriately. It was, however, her house. Her grandfather sitting at the head of the table.

And it wasn't really a sensation to complain about.

Having finished a serving of chocolate marquise, Arthur Hawkins pushed his plate away slightly, and sat back in his chair.

"You know, Seto," he rumbled with some sense of quiet cheerfulness, "I have to say that I was somewhat startled when dear Rebecca informed me you'd be joining us for a meal."

I stared at him. I might not have given an answer at all – it wasn't exactly a question – but after an evening of the man's hospitality I didn't want to appear my usual, jackass self. He was old. I could cut him some slack. I settled for a dry, "I was somewhat startled myself."

"Oh, honestly," Rebecca muttered, casting a long-suffering glance at me. She poked at her own dessert with the small fork.

"Let us agree that you aren't a gentleman I would have expected to see escorting her."

I met the remark with a sharp nod and my usual, steady gaze.

"However, having had the opportunity to speak with you this evening and see that you have… Shall we say, relaxed? Yes, that will do. Since you have 'relaxed' somewhat since your own younger days, then I think you are a fine match for my darling, who is, as I'm sure you're aware, no ordinary girl."

Once again, bully for me. In fact she was a damn handful to be with, but I would have... Wait a moment. Had I just received _parental approval_? Oh, the tabloids would never let me live THAT down.

A maid entered the room and presented Arthur with a case. It proved to contain a pipe. "Care to smoke?" he asked me as a courtesy. The maid offered a second case to me.

I shook my head, still a little suspicious. "No, I quit smoking." A moment later it occurred to me to add, "Thank you."

He arched an eyebrow. "You quit?"

"I smoked when I was twenty. I gave up at twenty-one."

"Did you find a gap in your schedule that needed filling?" Rebecca asked, primly.

"I was under a certain amount of pressure at the time. I thought I'd see if it worked as stress relief, as so many people claim. It didn't." I gave her a severe look.

She stuck her tongue out in response, while her grandfather was distracted lighting his tobacco. I'm sorry, was I under the impression she was mature?

"Right. Well." Pipe clenched in his mouth, Arthur reached for his cane. Rebecca rose, and took his elbow to help him stand. "I believe I shall take my pipe out onto the balcony to preserve the lungs of you two youngsters."

Ah. That explained a lot. Perspective is a wonderful thing – to Arthur Hawkins, I was plenty young enough. Of course, from the look of him he was probably born back when twelve year olds were affianced to French dukes.

"Seto," he extended his free hand to me, still speaking around the pipe. I shook it once again. "I trust you will watch out for my granddaughter."

I nodded out of courtesy, and he turned to Rebecca next to him and kissed her on the cheek. I heard him mutter, "I'm sure she'll be keeping both eyes on you," and then he exited the room.

I sat down again.

"Well done," Rebecca said cheerfully. "You didn't look like you were in pain at all!"

I grabbed her wrist and yanked her onto my lap. "Pain? Don't go putting ideas in my head." Yes, I resisted a comment about spanking.

"And what a nice head it is," she assured me, planting a kiss on my forehead. I grimaced. "Why, I could look at it all day."

"Unluckily for you it is now night, and I should be on my way home."

She pouted, then kissed me again, this time in a much more pleasing location; my mouth. She still tasted like chocolate pudding, and I bit her lip teasingly.

"That won't help you." I nudged her off me and stood up. Taller than her, this gave me a considerable advantage and I used it to pull her close and kiss her again. "Goodnight." Good lord, was that a teasing tone in my voice? I really was slipping.

Maybe I ought to fire someone at work tomorrow. Had to keep my edge, somehow.

She hooked her thumbs through the waistband of my pants. "Can I come home with you?"

I watched her face. "If you're going to have to get a ride all the way back to this house, there doesn't seem much point."

She slid an arm around my waist. Slipped her knee in between my legs. Used her large eyes to the best of her advantage. "Oh, there's always a point."

I cleared my throat. "It just seems like that would be lot unnecessary trouble…"

A frown crossed Rebecca's face for an instant, before she raised an eyebrow at me. Her lips formed a small smile. "Well, maybe I'll just stay at the mansion, then."

"Maybe you should," I agreed with a measured degree of nonchalance.

"Look at you, Mr Cool."

"Won't your grandfather have something to say about you leaving with me?"

"No," she said simply. "I'll go get a bag."

"Can I see your room?" I don't know what possessed me to ask that. It just came out. God damn curiosity!

Rebecca, however, broke into a broad smile. "So long as you behave yourself."

Behave myself. Honestly. What did she think I was? A hormonally-charged fifteen year old?

-

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When I woke up the next morning I heard singing in the shower. In my shower.

"'I am lonely, lonely, I was born to be lonely, I am best so!'"

Her voice was a pleasing mezzo-soprano. It was rather novel. I rolled onto my back and started at the canopy above my bed. It had been a long time since I'd woken up with anyone in my space, and I was pleased to find that I didn't actually mind.

After a few moments, I grabbed my robe and headed downstairs to the kitchen. It was only six, and housekeeping generally didn't start their work until nine. Mokuba and I were quite happy to find our own breakfast every day. My brother was already there, cooking scrambled eggs at the stove.

"'Morning, Big Brother," he chirped at me, stirring the yellow mass in front of him. "Sleep well?"

"Yes."

"Imagine that. Will she want eggs for breakfast?"

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about." I sat at the island in the middle of the large kitchen, and opened the morning paper.

"There's plenty here if she does, anyway. Really, Seto, you could have told me."

I glanced at him over the paper. "You already know. Anyway, do I ask who's in your bed?"

"No, because you'd have to repeat the question every morning for the latest answer."

I snorted.

"I knew you had someone stashed away. But I didn't know it was serious enough that she got to sleep over. You could've told me about her, in that case."

I cocked my head to one side. "Could've checked the security cameras," I suggested. She'd be on there leaving my room on numerous occasions. "Could've asked our driver."

"Oh, I asked him. He said it 'wasn't his business to talk to people about yours', even if I am your brother. I thought checking the footage was going a little far, though. Hey, do you want eggs?"

"You know my breakfast is coffee."

"Which you know isn't healthy."

"Caffeine before cholesterol." I smiled at his back. Stubborn brother. Couldn't think of where he got it from.

It was then that Rebecca entered the kitchen with her usual bounce. I choked on my coffee, and when Mokuba turned to see why, he nearly dropped his pan. She was in a school uniform. She had pink bows in her long, blonde hair.

Mother of god.

"Morning, boys," she said sweetly, and went straight to the refrigerator.

"Close your mouth, Mokuba," I muttered eventually.

"You close yours first," he shot back, and turned to serve up his food. "Eggs, Rebecca?"

She was pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "Sure. OJ?"

"Sure," he replied genially.

They both seated themselves at the island with me.

Mokuba laughed, suddenly. "And I thought it was just a rumour!"

We both stared at him.

"Seto Kaiba and Rebecca Hawkins! 'Those gossip columnists must be on crack', I think was my exact thought!"

"All right, all right," I grumbled. "Don't choke on your eggs."

Rebecca winked at me. "Fact is stranger than fiction," she said to my brother.

"Fuckin' A!" he agreed.

"Mokuba!" I snapped.

"Oh, Seto, relax," Rebecca reassured me. In her school uniform. I tried to repress the twitch I felt sure was creeping into my eye. Highschool. I was dating a highschool girl.

"Yeah, Seto, relax," Mokuba chimed. Good god, there were two of them.

"Nice hair." Rebecca continued to focus on my brother.

As if she had to remind me. Mokuba's hair was a lovely shade of blue. I'd been trying to get him to change it for a week, but he'd just threatened to change it to pink. I didn't need both my brother and my girlfriend habitually wearing pink.

Speaking of which…

"Nice uniform." Mokuba took care of it for me.

Rebecca straightened her Domino High jacket. "Cute, huh?" She batted her eyelashes. "I look like a regular tweenie." She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder.

God help me.

"Yes, nice uniform," I commented to her, although my tone was somewhat less amused. It certainly explained her habit of sneaking off in the night; she had school in the morning.

Mokuba glanced between us. "You know," he said brightly, "I think I'll go watch the morning news while I eat." He gathered his plate and utensils. "Nice seeing you again, Rebecca. Hopefully it's not the last time." He winked at my girlfriend, gave me a very pointed look, then sashayed out of the room.

"You mean to tell me that you actually go to highschool?" I shut the paper.

The smile Rebecca had directed at my retreating brother promptly left her face. "What did you think I did all day?" she asked somewhat coldly.

"Everything else you do." Obviously.

"Sometimes. I often leave during the day."

"Why the breakfast surprise?"

She shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"That is a very disappointing answer."

Rebecca glared at me. "Well, maybe I just didn't know how to say it. 'Oh, by the way, you know I'm in highschool, right?' I was kind of hoping you'd already know!"

"How? Through my psychic powers?"

"By actually paying attention, Seto!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Paying attention to what? The school newsletter?"

"Everyone knows I go to school!"

"'Everyone.'"

"…Okay, that was a bit irrational."

It was definitely safest not to agree with that statement. Instead, I said, "You've nearly completed your PhD, Rebecca. Why would I assume you had any need to go to highschool?"

She sighed. "Grandpa wanted me to go. I don't have any problem keeping up with classes, even though I miss a lot of it for duelling and business. He wanted me to spend time with people my own age."

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards, as if she appreciated the irony of that statement.

"Anyway, I didn't think you'd like it. And I wasn't entirely sure that you'd want to keep seeing me." She stuck out her chin, defiantly.

No, I didn't like it. Most of the time her attitude more than made up for her technical age, but it was hard to ignore the facts. On the other hand, I'd spent so much of my life ignoring what other people considered to be important facts... Why change my ways, now?

I got up and walked around the bench to sit next to her, in the seat Mokuba had recently occupied. I took her fork, which she had been doing nothing but gesturing with, and tried the scrambled eggs. Then, of course, I pulled a face – I wasn't an egg fan. She opened her mouth to speak to me, but I pushed a forkful of her breakfast into it.

"I'm sorry I didn't know sooner." I said. An apology! Somebody take down the date so we could celebrate its anniversary! "However, it's not like you volunteered any information whatsoever about it. Therefore I think I should be excused for my ignorance."

She swallowed. "Okay, fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine!" she insisted.

I kissed her, slowly, sliding one arm around her waist as I did so and resting my hand lightly on her back.

"That's cheating." She pouted at me with full, pink lips. "Okay, I agree; there really was no reason you should have known. I mean, you could have looked me up on the internet or something, but why would you?"

"Why would I?" I agreed. "I can look you over right here." I kissed her again.

Who would have thought I would have been such a big fan of kissing? Well, if it would shut her up now and then. And it was a good way to cheat my way out of arguments.

"I'm going, before I'm late to school. Can I steal your driver?"

I walked her to the front door, where I had the pleasure of wishing her a nice day. As soon as we'd made our rather tantalising goodbye and I'd shut the door, my brother appeared.

"Really, Seto!" He shook his head, pulling a long face. "I am so disappointed in you."

"Shut up," I suggested, helpfully, and headed for the stairs. I still hadn't showered; at this rate, I'd be the one who was late.

"Was it the uniform that first attracted you?"

"Shut up."

"Or maybe that was just a bonus?" he called after me.

"Shut up!"

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I lay on my stomach in bed. Across the room, Rebecca sat at my desk. The only light in the room happened to be the monitor, which gave her pale skin a strange blue glow. There was a fair amount of that skin because she was wearing only the coverlet from my bed. It fell around her like an exotically oversized black toga, slipping here and there when she moved.

"We're on this one, too." She used the roller on the mouse to scroll down the page, skimming the text. "Not much, really, just says that we've 'been seen together frequently in the past month, sparking rumours of an affair.'" She glanced at me, but I didn't really have a comment to make.

It had only been a matter of time. No one had gone so far yet as to point a finger at me and scream 'Cradle-snatcher!' but there were plenty of radio hosts and entertainment presenters making quips about a possibly inappropriate relationship between us. So far I'd been ignoring the problem, but it had really started to snowball. And it worried Rebecca a little more.

She sighed and closed the window. Pushed her glasses along her nose – she'd taken her contacts off for the night – and tucked some of her soft hair behind one ear. I think her words yesterday had been, "If those fuckers do anything to my reputation to hurt Triple T – " her charity, 'Tots, Toys and Technology' – "I will cut off their goddamn balls and feed them to a fucking teddy bear."

The bizarre image gave me a very uncomfortable feeling. I didn't mention that if her last boyfriend – a nineteen year old visual kei rocker – hadn't hurt her credentials then a mogul like myself couldn't do too much worse. In the event of all hell breaking loose, I'd come off much more Satanic than she would anyway.

In a moment she commented, "You have an email reminding you about a concert next weekend."

"Mmm." I'd almost forgotten that. It was probably in my schedule.

"From… Your professor?"

"That's the one."

"Piano, wasn't it?"

"Yes." I rolled onto my back. "And violin, and flute."

She giggled.

"Do you have a problem?"

"I didn't know you played the flute."

"The flute is a beautiful instrument." My tone was matter of fact.

"Yes, but – " she paused, probably stifling another giggle, "I have a lot of difficulty picturing you actually playing one."

"Let me guess..."

"Hmm?"

"You play the drums."

I watched a delighted smile grace her countenance. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Too easy.

"So explain the concert, already."

"The professor who oversaw my Masters is playing, alongside some other premier performers."

"Exclusive event?"

"I imagine there'll be rather a lot of high society types." One of my least favourite things in the world.

"…Your security really has issues," she said in a rather distracted voice, before giving a yawn. She shut down the computer, and a moment later, slipped back into bed. "I reprogrammed some stuff for you."

She lay an arm across my abdomen, her head on my chest, and without thinking I moved my arms until they were more or less cradling her. "If it implodes, I'm suing you."

"Speaking of performances, I'm in the first-year play," she mumbled in a sleepy voice.

I blinked myself slightly more awake. "What is it?"

"We're doing an abridged version of Hamlet."

"…Ophelia?"

She snorted. "As if. I'm Hamlet. I convinced them we should do a gender reversal."

That sounded more like Rebecca. "Congratulations." Somewhat sarcastic, somewhat sincere.

"Will you come see?"

I hesitated. Domino High wasn't a place I relished the idea of returning to. "Perhaps."

"You really should let me at your KC security team…" She said a moment later.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't. I tried to distract her. "Coming to the concert with me?"

"You know how I love pianists."

I was too close to sleep to laugh at her lewd tone. We drifted off.

-

-

-

It turned out to be a bad idea. I was distracted. Polite small talk had never been my strong point, after all. After pushing our way past the media outside the concert hall – we'd probably made their night by appearing together – Rebecca and I had some networking to do inside the foyer. She mostly wandered about examining the architecture, which for the most part was nineteenth century French revivalist.

I got stuck with the business men and their wives. And I had a lot of trouble focusing on them when my date for the evening was standing not far off in a black, shimmering dress. It had a low, cross-over top and a series of layers which fell back from mini-skirt length in the front, to a long gown in the back. Instead of the highheels one might expect with the dress, she'd shod herself in a pair knee-high black boots. The only outfit with any personality in the whole place. In short, she looked improbably good.

Regular sex was turning me into an idiot.

I was eventually rescued from the moronic masses by my professor, himself.

"Kaiba!" He greeted me fondly, and I beckoned Rebecca with an almost imperceptible head movement. She drifted over to us.

"Jules, this is a friend of mine, Rebecca Hawkins."

"Enchante," he said, and kissed her hand like I'd known he would.

Rebecca was unphased. "Professor Dubois," she responded in a low, husky voice. "Seto has told me how much he enjoyed working with you."

"He's quite the accomplished flautist, you know," Jules said offhandedly. I saw Rebecca stifle a smile. "And you, my dear, do you play or do you merely listen?"

She laughed. "I only play the drums," her tone was confidential, "But I'm a fan of most musical genres."

Fortunately, Jules prevented us from having to listen to anyone else's banal chatter until we were invited to take our seats. The evening's entertainment was to be a three-part presentation: first, a few pieces on the piano by Jules Dubois; second, he would be joined by three violinists of growing repute; finally, Jules would sit down and the trio would take the stage with a few other strings and miscellaneous instruments.

During the first interval I refused to get out of my seat. We were encouraged to retire to the foyer once again for wine and appropriate snacks, but nobody was getting me back out into that social menagerie. Rebecca was of a like-minded opinion. She'd seemed a little restless, to tell the truth. Jules' piano had been excellent, but I'd noticed her shifting in her chair. At the interval she did pay a small visit to the little prodigy's room, and returned to me ten minutes later with a decidedly odd expression on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I shrugged and returned to looking at the programme. I'd been over it several times already, but there wasn't much else to do other than people-watch. And I, as a general rule, loathe other people.

"…They have a unisex bathroom."

Unusual, but not unheard of. I raised an eyebrow. "…So?"

She crossed and uncrossed her legs. "Nothing."

"Don't they teach you geniuses how to be less cryptic?"

"Oh yes, and you're _so_ vocal."

I learned closer to her, muttering in her ear. "Vocal? I'm not the vocal one."

She blushed. She knew I wasn't talking about her habit of singing in the bathroom. Ah yes, the bathroom.

I sat back in my chair, and lazily surveyed the rest of the room. People were returning to their seats. Rebecca moved in her chair again, accidentally nudging my foot with her own. I glanced back at her. She was toying with the string of pearls around her neck.

"Meet you there after the next interval?"

She met my eyes. Her own had a very come-hither look to them. "Sure."

I'd never heard such a casual tone. Brat.

The lights dimmed.

-

-

-

People were taking their seats for the third and final part of the evening's entertainment.

"What the hell is taking her so long?" I heard myself mutter more loudly than was necessary. I stood and made my way out of the seating. I expected to be accosted and waylaid at any moment, but it didn't happen. I actually made it out into the foyer. A few stragglers were still sipping their wine and I ignored them, striding straight for the bathroom.

I pushed the door and found a spacious and luxurious room. It was panelled in a dark, rich wood and red velvet, with seating to match. There was even a small fountain in its centre. Ooh la la. Although it was unisex, the very large room was still clearly divided in two sections, male and female. Rebecca was standing at the mirror, chatting with a middle-aged woman. I caught the words 'passion purple' and 'red sunset' and assumed it had something to do with makeup.

I strode past the two women deep into the bathroom, to the men's section. Rebecca paused mid-sentence as I caught her eye. Fortunately, the other woman smiled, patted her on the hand, and commented that she was going back to her seat.

I walked to the long row of marble basins - trying to look inconspicuous – and washed my hands. That woman seemed to take a long time to leave the room. As the door shut behind our unwanted third party (hopefully on her ass; she'd been moving slowly enough), the lights above us dimmed on and off to signal that the music was beginning once again.

Rebecca and I met halfway and instantly started to snatch at each other. In the middle of the bathroom. I must have been losing my fucking mind. I put my hands around her waist and steered her towards the end cubicle. She tugged the ends of my shirt out of my suit pants.

"This isn't very dignified," I managed to say as she fumbled with my buttons and I slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. The comment was meant to be disdainful, but I was too out of breath for that.

The door clunked shut behind us with a reverberating thud, and Rebecca slammed the lock across, throwing my jacket across the hook on the back of it in the same movement. (I'd always wondered what those were for.)

"Never done it in a bathroom before?"

"Like you have, Little Ms Expert."

"Only that time in your shower."

More kissing. She was tugging at my tie and unbuttoning my shirt as I was kissing her… And then it quickly became apparent that we had a problem. I had to lean down too far to kiss her neck. Too tall; or she was too short. Damn petite little thing. I pulled back and looked around the cubicle. She did the same. Our eyes fell on the toilet.

Then our gazes snapped back to meet.

"No." One word, two voices. We were not having sex on a toilet. Nice to know we could agree on the important matters.

I blinked. "Take off your boots."

"What?"

I grabbed the back of her neck and swept her slightly upwards, onto her tiptoes, crushing her mouth. "Your boots," I insisted a moment later when we came up for air. "Take them off."

She shrugged and bent to comply. A mutter – "This is out of character." I liked her shoes. I liked her in shoes. So sue me.

She stepped out of the knee-highs, for a moment making her even shorter. I kicked their black leather out of our way, to the back corner of the stall. Then I grabbed her and lifted, one arm around her waist, the other at the top of her thighs. I turned as I did so, manoeuvring so that I faced the one solid wall our cubicle had – I knew there was a reason I'd chosen the end stall – and smashed her into it, careful not to hit her head.

Though she still threw her legs around my waist, the air was knocked out of her for a moment.

"Jesus," she exclaimed. She tugged on my hair for revenge and I bit her lower lip. "Can you hold me up long enough?"

"I have plenty of stamina," I assured her. I might be thin, but that doesn't mean that I'm weak. And this would have to be quick.

"Well, you're stubborn enough, anyway."

"Be quiet." I pushed her harder against the wall – and consequently against myself – and started kissing her neck.

She started to moan and I shifted my mouth quickly to cover hers, eating the end of the sound as well as her. "I said shut up," I mumbled into her lips. Hell, it was a public bathroom. Someone could walk in any moment and we'd be caught. Or stuck in there until they left.

"I'll be good," she whispered back, tugging at the waistband of my pants.

I stifled a laugh. "I know."

-

-

-

"Seto! What did you think?"

I'd promised Jules I'd say goodbye before leaving. I'm not the sort of person who makes promises that often or that lightly, but Jules was one of the few of the species who had managed to impress me. He was talented and creative, but not one of those impossible, flakey types who let work and progress slide – hence why he had been an appropriate supervisor for my masterate work.

"Very impressive."

"And you, young lady! Did you have an enjoyable evening?" Jules made a small bow to Rebecca.

"Oh, yes." She smiled. It was her Aren't-I-The-Cutest-Most-Innocent-Thing smile. Too bad he didn't know she was really the devil's spawn. "It was a very pleasurable evening."

See? Demoness. I was tempted to stamp on her foot. Instead, I cleared my throat. "It was a good concert, Jules. It's always wonderful to hear you play. Unfortunately, we have to be on our way."

He wasn't particularly disappointed. It was his triumph; he had plenty of people there to kiss his ass.

"Brat," I growled at Rebecca as we made our way out the door. Lights flashed at us from the garden of camera bulbs lining the path.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. Sweet smile still plastered on her angelic face. "…That's not what you said in the bathroom."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

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-

-

The only explanation I could find for how I ended up at Anzu's baby shower was that Mokuba and Rebecca had somehow plotted against me. One set of puppy eyes was bad enough; did I really need two in my life? Maybe the two of them should have been dating.

That thought was very wrong. Anyway, Mokuba had enough of his own. He didn't need mine.

"Anzu, these are so cute!" My god. That was my girlfriend squealing over a pair of absurdly tiny, blue, woollen booties. My girlfriend. I had a girlfriend, and she was cooing about babies. Help please.

Anzu smiled up at Rebecca from her armchair. Still as big as a house. Maybe she'd upgraded to a small apartment complex – apparently she was due in about two weeks.

"We're really glad you could make it, Kaiba," Yuugi said. Wasn't he just all sugar and sweetness? Oh, to hell with it. Why not take my discomfort out on Yuugi? It was his fault for knocking up Mazaki, after all. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. The midget glanced between Rebecca and myself. Which, of course, caused me to glance back in her direction.

It was like a junior school dance (or so I guessed; it wasn't like I'd ever gone to mine) with the men on one side of the room looking rather terrified, and the girls on the other discussing clothes.

These just happened to be baby clothes.

Rebecca caught my eye and gave me a small smile. I didn't return it; not because I was mad at her, but because we were in a room full of people who already seemed somewhat uncomfortable that I'd shown up with my highschooler girlfriend. I didn't need any more sidelong glances from them.

She flicked a pigtail over her shoulder and went back to talking to Mai Valentine. Mai was the only other female I recognised. The redhead was apparently Jounouchi's sister, and the rest were Anzu's friends and colleagues. Lots of lithesome dancer types.

Correction. Almost all the men were on my side of the room. My brother had abandoned me and was off flirting with ballerinas.

But he kind of looked like a girl with his long hair anyway, so that would even it up. Note to self: later explain to Mokuba that the only reason they were so nice to him was that they thought he was also a ballerina. He deserved it. He'd been pestering me non-stop for the past week about clearing time for this.

I'd said no, but then Rebecca had started. They had to have been in cahoots.

Yuugi had given up waiting for a response and turned back to his friends. Well, at least the dork squad, as I affectionately thought of them in my mind, weren't as bad as what I was getting from colleagues. Or the media. Thinking back to my last board meeting actually made me want to physically cringe. I had wanted to cringe while I was in it.

I have never in my life felt like I've had to be held accountable for anything by any of the tired old men sitting around that long, long table. Nor the one or two younger ones. Well, I hadn't until yesterday. They say that nobody can make you feel small unless you let them, which is something I have always believed in. Unfortunately, my conscience apparently had some trouble processing this one.

Reliving the meeting in my head, I saw Tanaka once again asking me, "Yes, but don't you think, Mr Kaiba, that you really ought to give a press release on the matter nonetheless?" I'd glared at him in response, but the bastard apparently now thought he had something to hold over me, and had persisted his questioning. "It is, after all, a delicate matter which could have a considerable impact on the image of KaibaCorp."

I was allowed to sit pondering these things, now, for an entire seven minutes before Yuugi again started feeling the need to make me converse. He turned back to me.

"So, you and Rebecca, huh?" What a bright tone in his voice.

I scanned his face. It wasn't particularly hard to read; he seemed both pleased and anxious. I did have trouble discerning whether or not jealousy entered into the mix.

"Yes, me and Rebecca."

"… Robbing the cradle…" I heard that idiot blonde mumble on the other side of me. I glared at him and he ducked behind his friend with the pointy hair, whose name it always took me at least three minutes to remember. Right, Honda. Chickenshit.

"I'm glad – " Yuugi leaned forward, confidentially, "I'm glad that she's found someone."

Found someone? We hadn't been dating _that_ long. "We're not planning a baby shower of our own any time soon, Yuugi."

"…Because she IS a baby!"

I made a second, more important mental note to ruin Jounouchi's life later on, when Mokuba wasn't around to frown at me. I glared at my brother, across the room; he was certainly on my list of people culpable for making me suffer through this. He didn't seem to care, however. He simply rolled his eyes and went back to patting a girl on the hand.

"But still," Yuugi continued. "I was worried how she'd take this, for a while…"

Yeah. He and Mazaki – really, her name wasn't Mazaki any more, but I wasn't about to change the way I spoke to her because of something little like that - hadn't wasted any time. Graduate college. Get married. Pop out a squalling combination of their DNA. Not many dancers wasted their dancing years by giving birth.

Of course, she probably didn't consider it a waste.

Yuugi was still talking at me. "But I'm really happy she found someone who understands her."

Understands her? Did I look like Oprah all of a sudden? I watched Rebecca as she laughed and nudged the redhead – Shizuka? The scariest part was that Yuugi probably right. I was the only one in the room who seemed to see that Rebecca had heartbreak hiding in the corners of her mouth. They were too heavy. It was a good act, but they didn't smile quite the way they should.

What did that make me?

"There are so many people that have always treated her like a kid," Yuugi added.

"Yeah, jailbait is much better!"

"Excuse me for a moment, Yuugi." I stood up, which meant I was suddenly towering over the glowing father-to-be. From the other side of him, Honda and Jounouchi both stared up at me for a moment. Then Jounouchi shouted, "Shizuka!" and literally leapt out of his seat. He was across the room in under a second.

I sat down again.

Yuugi blinked, then smiled good-naturedly. "Don't mind Katsu, he's just teasing."

My ass.

Did she have to wear those pigtails today? She looked every bit a piece of jailbait. I looked like an asshole - and not the loveable asshole everyone was used to. Christ, if… Well, alright, these people were the closest things I had to 'friends'. Sure, I didn't see them that often, and nor did I want to. But I could, on occasion, tolerate them. They were used to me, if nothing else. And if even they had trouble dealing with the age gap between me and Rebecca, I was starting to see why the board had a problem. Why the company might have a problem.

Why I had a problem.

Was it any wonder that all I could do was glare at people today?

Rebecca chose that moment to bound over, while Anzu and company were talking to the dumb blonde. "Yuugi-chan, this bib is adorable! Anzu told me you picked it! You're going to make such a great father…"

I went to talk to my brother.

-

-

-

We didn't speak much in the car. In fact, we didn't really talk at all. Mokuba had disappeared with a black-haired stick-figure with breasts, which left me to drive Rebecca home. She'd switched on the cd player and promptly turned to stare out the window. It was only late Saturday afternoon, but neither of us felt in the mood to extend the outing. Anyway, Rebecca had a rehearsal later in the evening with some of her classmates - the school plays were only three weeks away.

It wasn't until I pulled up outside her house that she turned to talk to me.

"You know, you were a jerk this afternoon."

I stared at her. Her brow was crinkled. Lower lip jutting out. Not good things. "I told you on numerous occasions that I didn't want to go."

"So, what – you just decided to bitch and moan the whole time like some kind of little kid?"

I felt my lips part in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Forget it." She got out of the car. Actually got out of the car, in the middle of the conversation. And she'd slammed her door, too.

I climbed out after her. "What's your problem?"

"What's my PROBLEM?"

"Yes! You're the one looking and acting like a kid!"

Rebecca stopped where she had been walked away from me. Pivoted on her heel, and marched right up to me. "What the hell do you mean I look like a kid?"

I raised an eyebrow, and then flicked one of her pigtails over her shoulder. She flinched.

"I hate to break it to you, but it's called a _hairstyle_. Sometimes we females change them!"

"Well did you have to pick one that was so… Juvenile?"

"'Juvenile'?" she shrieked. "If I'm a juvenile, then what does that make YOU?"

For the first time in my life, the impact of someone's words felt like a physical slap in my face. I felt myself recoil involuntarily, which was much the same process by which the next words fell out of my mouth. They didn't even make a good comeback. They were just cruel.

"I don't know! Would you like to go back to the baby shower to ask _Yuugi-chan_? Maybe he can tell me the term and explain that's why he's never wanted you!"

She kicked me in the shin. Actually kicked me in the shin. I mean, fucking ouch. I gritted my teeth.

"Please don't tell me your attitude problem today was because you were JEALOUS!"

I grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards me.

"Let go!"

"No. I had an attitude problem because I was uncomfortable."

"Oh, no shit. You think I wasn't?"

"I don't know, why don't we ask Yuugi-chan?"

"Let me the fuck go!" she shouted directly into my face, and I flung her away from me. She almost lost her balance. "You fucking dick!" Still shouting. "Don't you know that today was really hard for me?"

"I'm the only one who fucking noticed that!" I shouted back at her. "All anyone else noticed was that I showed up with a teenager who flirted with the married man!"

"You are such a bastard, do you know that? Give me a break, Seto! I loved Yuugi for seven years! What the hell do you expect from me? I've only loved you for – " She stopped mid-sentence.

Yet again, I felt like she had just hit me in the face. It was a day for new experiences. I just stared at her, too dignified to let my mouth gape, but too stunned to say anything. What had she just admitted to? From the look on her face, I wasn't the only one blurting things I didn't quite mean to say.

Rebecca shut her mouth and turned her back on me. If it had been summer or even spring yet, we might have heard a cricket chirp in the night's silence. Unfortunately, it was winter and there was nothing. When Rebecca turned back around to look at me she was calm, despite the fact that there were tears slowly creeping down her face. She ignored them. Her voice was steady. "I'm sorry, Seto, but you really need to get over my age."

"Get over it? I have never treated you like a typical fifteen year old!"

"No! …No. You treat me like I ought to be twenty five, too. Well, I'm not. Whether you like it or not, I am in highschool! And Christ, you won't even agree to come to my play!" A pause, and a sigh. "No, I'm not a kid, but I am not an adult either, Seto. I am 'a mere vessel of emotion untinctured by experience'…"

I still didn't know how to respond. Let's face it, I've never been a great communicator.

"And maybe I don't want to BE an adult all the time, and you have to deal with that, too!"

Was she right? Was that what I'd been doing? Frowning on anything she'd done that had been remotely immature? I didn't think so; not all the time at least. I liked that she was playful – impetuous, even. But maybe I had still done it anyway. Was it my fault? It's not like there's a guide written on how to treat your genius girlfriend! Oh, screw it, it WAS my fault. I'd promised to treat her like a person independent of age, and all I'd been doing was trying to add a decade to her. My mouth felt unpleasantly dry.

"And if you can't live with that – " Rebecca's voice cracked. "Then I don't think I want to see you any more."

For the second time, she turned to walk up the stairs to her house. And I let her. This time she went inside without even glancing back at me. And me? I got into my car. I drove away.

-

-

-

_Thomas Hardy's __Tess of the d'Ubervilles_.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

-

-

I fired a few people. Oh, hell, they got their severance pay, didn't they? And an ample one at that. It made me feel a better. Not much, but every little bit counted.

"I've only loved you for – "

So why didn't I do anything? Hell, why had I let it happen in the first place? Anger, shock. A bad mood. Then a few days went by, and a few more, and she hadn't called me. And I'd started to think that it was probably for the best.

"Mr Kaiba?"

Who had I been kidding? It never would have worked. Sooner or later one of us would get bored – and let's face it, it would probably be her. She was too smart, and too young. I couldn't keep up with a fifteen year old. I'd never even been one, not properly.

"Mr Kaiba!"

"What?" I snapped. Which brings us back to Friday's meeting.

"Mr Noburi was stating that your brother might want to reconsider his plans for producing an independent film. Such investments are questionable at best…"

"Mokuba can do whatever he wants." I overrode the two of them.

They exchanged a glance.

"But Sir - "

"What part of that statement didn't you understand?"

Another glance between them; increasingly irritating. Those little sons of bitches. I glared at them and they didn't even seem to notice. They moved on to the overall projections for the next two weeks in the entertainment media division. I went back to ignoring them.

If I could have fired them, I would have. I almost missed the good old days, in which I could stomp all over everyone with my big, buckled boots. Well, at least I still had the boots. But necessity forced me to put up with these people. I was CEO of one of the world's biggest corporations; even with my stamina, there'd need to be at least six of me to run it alone.

And let's face it, for the most part they were good at looking after KaibaCorp's interests. It would not be easy to replace board members with such detailed inside knowledge, and even if I poached them off my rivals, firing these men could be downright dangerous given their inside knowledge. Still... They were becoming entirely too damn presumptuous for my liking.

"I've only loved you for..."

And they'd been right, too and I hated their smug little faces for it. I couldn't continue my little… Whatever it was… With Rebecca, not without harming KaibaCorp. I'd worked too long and too hard to build the company to do something now that would destroy public trust in the name. Bonking a highschooler was not a good past-time for me. Sure, Mokuba could do whatever he wanted. He was the adorable young bad boy.

I was now a twenty five year old hardass. Not badass. Hardass.

Oh well. Nothing wrong with a firm posterior.

That probably shouldn't have directed my thoughts back to Rebecca. Christ, if it was for the best then why was I still thinking about her? I ought to be controlling the meeting. Never mind that I paid these assholes obscene amounts of money to watch my back; if I didn't watch it myself nonetheless, they'd still rip my own company away when given too much free-rein. Damned if I kept them employed, damned if I didn't.

"... That's why he's never wanted you!"

Since when had I been such a bleeding heart, anyway? Cry me a myspace. Even when Aiko had turned down my proposal, I'd been over her in a week. (Probably a good thing she hadn't accepted, huh?) But it wasn't as though she'd really loved me, anyway. She loved the idea of me, like so many screaming fans who think they know the 'real' me. That had become abundantly clear in the end.

Maybe it was just that I'd been a little biased against Rebecca's age and felt guilty because of it. ... No, we all know I don't feel guilt.

Okay: maybe it was because no one else had ever really loved me that way and I was too much of an asshole to deal with it.

"Mr Kaiba?"

"WHAT?"

"… Er… We were just saying how pleased we were that you'd ended your association with the young Ms Hawkins since our last meeting. The media has lost interest very quickly."

The words hung in the air. I stared at him, comprehending entirely too much. _Ended your association_… _our last meeting_… These imbeciles thought it was because of them? No wonder they were acting so high-handedly today. _Ended_. Was that really it? The End? Why didn't I want it to be the end?

Because if this was the end, I probably wouldn't have another chance. If this was the end, I'd probably give up. Admit to myself that I wasn't born for this sort of thing; wasn't raised for it. If this was the end I would probably become more and more bitter and more and more sarcastic and one day just die alone.

That was melodramatic. I'd have Mokuba, after all.

If he wasn't busy paying thirteen women alimony.

"If you'd care to make a press release, at last, to confirm that your liaison was solely related to KaibaCorp's latest security upgrades, as you told us…"

Alone.

_You know what it's like._

_I don't want to think so much._

_I don't want to be so lonely._

God, what an idiot. It wasn't because she loved me – though despite the fact she hadn't said it properly, I believed it. No… I couldn't stop thinking about her because the brat, the kid, the little vixen was right. About everything. Even Yuugi was right. It didn't matter how old she was, or how old I was, either. We'd actually understood each other, even if I hadn't quite understood myself. One child prodigy to another.

The reason I couldn't stop thinking about Rebecca because I had never loved any one else that way, and never so much.

And I was still in my damn meeting.

"…We can arrange it for you, perhaps for Monday morning?"

I stood up. Before I hit the door, Tanaka shouted at me, "Mr Kaiba? Where are you going? …Would you like to arrange the press release?"

I turned to glare at him. "It's the weekend. I am leaving. I don't think that will be necessary."

He actually opened his mouth again. Actually. Opened his mouth. Again. To argue with me! My god, I'd been slipping. I'd been slipping for a while and maybe some of it had nothing to do with Rebecca. It was the boredom.

The complete and total boredom I had felt with my life before I met her.

And I was making excuses! I was worse than these motherfuckers gaping at me when I walked out on them. I was afraid that I was too weak to run my own company any more! If there would have to be six of me then there would have to be six of me, and god damn the board to hell. Anyone who couldn't be bought could be intimidated. Anyone who couldn't be intimidated could be blacklisted. If just one person double-crossed me by leaking information to another company, I would see that their name was mud, was dogshit, that they would never work in this town or any other town again except perhaps as a portable toilet salesman.

And the best part was that I didn't have to do it with six of me. I had Mokuba. I had Yuugi Moutou, for chrissakes. I could have Rebecca, if I wanted her. Couldn't I?

It was time to find out.

"Tanaka, the press will see enough of me before then. And if any of you ever again dares to instigate a conversation featuring Rebecca Hawkins' name – any of you, ever again – then you are _all_ fired."

There were quite a few scandalised faces looking at me.

"Oh, I'll do it. Kaiba Corp. Seto Kaiba. See the correlation there? Do you understand that Kaiba Corp is my property? And that as far as I'm concerned, so are you. Never forget that I am the one in charge here, gentleman."

I stormed out of the office; not a mere figure of speech. I was brewing. The door slammed so hard behind me that the glass cracked. They all deserved to be scandalised. And so did I.

-

-

-

Rebecca was on the stage and she was adorable. Elizabethan tights, a tunic, brocade, a sword strapped about her slender waist.

"I never gave you aught," she said.

"My honoured lord, you know right well you did," a teenage boy responded, as he fawned after her in dismay.

Rebecca's face was cold, her mien haughty,

"I did love you once," she said.

"Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so." The boy's eyes shimmered with tears. He was dressed in tights, and a tunic also but his was longer, and his hair was curled around his face. Heavy make up. I could easily believe that this Opheliac creature loved Rebecca. Perhaps he did. I knew nothing about her school life, but she had to have admirers.

Unless they were all intimidated by her. Like it was with me.

"You should not have believed me," her words dropped into the air like stones, "for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not."

"I was the more deceived," the poor Ophelia responded. He dropped to the ground, weak at the knees.

"Get thee to a nunnery!" Rebecca shouted. She pulled up him by the elbow, shoved him away from her. Her voice was thick with the sound of despise.

The performance affected me unlike any I had ever been to, and I had been to some of the finest theatres and concert halls in the world. I stood at the back of the Domino High school auditorium and could barely breathe, so taken was I with her movements, her gestures, her slow madness, her Shakespearean fury. It didn't matter that Claudius was wooden, Gertrude just terrible, most of the actors all too clearly uncomfortable teenagers in silly garb, poncing about because their teacher had made them.

Rebecca held me every second I could see her. And I knew I had to do more than show up at her school play, late and regretful.

In the intermission I got on my cellphone. I ordered twelve dozen red roses sent to the dressing room backstage – she didn't have her own, but every jar was labelled "Rebecca" or, alternatively, "Hamlet." It was not the most original of romantic gestures, but I was new to them and figured it was a good start.

But how to build on that, I didn't know.

I called Mokuba.

"Help me," I said by way of a greeting.

"Seto? What's wrong?" The alarm in his voice was touching.

"I'm in love."

"Oh, thank you god!"

"You have to help me."

"Help you what?"

"Apologise. Never having done it before, I am not exactly sure how."

Mokuba laughed. That cruel little beast.

"Don't buy her a present, okay? You can't just give a genius heiress a diamond bracelet and have it mean something."

"Well gee, you sure saved me from a faux pas there. I thought a few lavish gifts would fix everything."

I paced in the school lobby, and so quickly that its garish paisley carpet began to nauseate me.

"For someone who's in the mood to apologise, you sure are bitchy."

"I am caustic because I am nervous," I snapped at him.

"Okay. Look. What does Rebecca care about more than anything in the world?"

"I don't know! Child refugees in the Middle East? Historic junk? Duelling?"

Mokuba sighed down the phoneline.

"No, Seto. Think."

"I don't know!"

"You, Seto. All you need to do is give her you. Really, truly. Be a human being."

"I won't be weak!" I said.

Mokie laughed. "You're Seto Kaiba; weak is not in your vocabulary. Don't be scared."

He hung up on me. The little bastard. Give her me? How the hell do you give yourself to another person?

Behind the auditorium doors, I could hear the play starting up again. She ought to have got the flowers in the intermission. She ought to know they were from me.

Outside the building I could see a kid who looked about fourteen. He was pouting and sucking on a cigarette.

"Hey, kid," I said.

He scowled at me, "Man, you better not have just called me kid."

"Easy, Tiger."

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognise me.

"I have fifty thousand yen for you if you can get backstage and steal me just one rose."

"What's the catch?" The kid stamped on his cigarette.

I reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a fistful of dollars.

"No catch. One rose. You've got exactly four minutes."

The kid took off running.

-

-

-

Throughout the final act I had watched Rebecca even more closely, attended to her every movement not just for her acting but in search of some small betrayal that she knew I was here, that she was thinking of me. There was nothing, and I felt the closest thing to fear that I have ever felt.

But don't tell anyone, all right?

I was determined.

"Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage – the soldier's music and the rites of war speak loudly for him." A gangly girl in armour gave the solemn order. "Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this becomes the field, but here shows much amiss."

The curtain fell.

The curtain rose.

Rebecca beamed in the centre of the cast, taking her bows. The parents, family and friends – they all cheered. For the first time I saw Yuugi, and a heavily pregnant Mazaki down towards the front of the audience, on their feet, applauding. Jounouchi was there to watch, though probably he hadn't understood half of what he'd seen. Arthur Hawkins and one of his aides were there.

A few photographs were fired off – probably some from parents and some from journalists. Good.

And now her eyes looked around the room. Rebecca's smile faltered for a moment as she didn't see me.

I stepped out from the shadows, where I had stood for hours without a seat. I began to walk down the centre aisle towards the stage. It took her longer than I expected to see me – but a buzz began before I was half way to her. I couldn't walk. I ran.

I don't remember the last time I ran. Part of it was adrenaline, and part of it was a fear of exposure, of rejection, so deep that I could do nothing but run towards her.

Don't tell anyone, all right?

I didn't remember whether I had climbed the stairs or leapt onto the stage, but I handed her a single rose at the same moment that I kissed her. I couldn't see the audience through a flashing of white lights.

"I'm sorry," I said, before she could speak. "You were right, and I am sorry, and no one has ever heard those two statements come out of my mouth together before but I mean them."

"Seto – " she said, and reached out.

I grabbed her two small hands in my own.

"I don't know how far this can go but I don't care. I don't care what age you are. If you want to be fifteen that's all right with me because you are the most intelligent, poised and devlish woman I have ever known and I want you by my side for as long as I can have you there."

She was not dazed. She was not thrown. She did have tears in her eyes.

"Seto, I'm wearing a microphone," she said.

"I love you, Rebecca."

She tried to pull her hands from mine. She whispered, "They can hear you," and the words carried across the room.

"I love you, Rebecca."

She started to laugh. "I love you, too."

I grabbed her, lifted her, spun her off stage, grabbed her hand and took off down the aisle.

"Where are we going?" she shouted. She was still laughing.

"To fuck off my board of directors for now and forever more," I said.

We danced our way to my car, through the streets, and to a future where I would never have to drink my coffee alone again – if I didn't want to. And I didn't.


End file.
